


The Man Comes Around

by TheRebelDread



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRebelDread/pseuds/TheRebelDread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The doctor finds a strange boy in an unexpected place, and everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Comes Around

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly part of a mini series, I haven't decided yet. It was originally intended to be a standalone piece.
> 
> Title inspired by the endlessly talented Johnny Cash.

 

His mind harboured nothing but a dense fog.

He remembered hitting the breaks, the way the tires had screamed and the crunch of glass. Had he hit something? Why couldn't he remember? A cloud of dust and smoke rolled in the windows and made him choke. His head was throbbing. With a groan of pain, he forced open the door and stumbled out to survey the damage.

The road was empty. These roads were always empty. The nearest town was more than five miles ahead, and there wasn't another car in sight. But the white, '71 Chevy Nova was halfway off the road, skid marks like tattoos on the blacktop. There was blood and fur on the grill, a headlight was busted and the windshield cracked as though something had landed on it.

The driver lifted the hood to check the engine. It seemed alright to drive; nothing serious anyway, mostly surface damage. She'd seen better days, but she'd live. He must've hit an animal; maybe a deer. Something big. A few drops of blood led away from the wreck, but there was no carcass. Whatever it was, it must've run off.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he told the Chevy as he closed her hood, “I gotta start treating you better.”

His head was pounding. He needed a strong cup of coffee and a handful of aspirin. But first, a cigarette. He reached in the glove box for a pack of smokes, but found it was empty. _What a night,_ he thought. At least there was a diner a few miles up ahead with good coffee and a cigarette machine.  
  
The Chevy groaned as he shifted into gear, but he pushed her on.

  
The diner's business was slow. Mostly truckers from out of town and a few regulars who came for the coffee and cheesecake. A tiny bell chimed as the driver opened the door. The old cigarette machine looked inviting, and his fingers itched as he pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket. But the machine clanked and rattled in response, and it was only then that he noticed the 'out of order' sign on the glass. _Son of a bitch._  
  
"It doesn't work," a sweet, feminine voice called from behind the counter, "but I've got a few packs back here." She was a cute redhead with big eyes and a pretty smile.

"Sure," he told her, "I'll take a coffee too."  
  
Her eyes widened as he approached the counter. _"Oh_ _.._ you're hurt." His brows furrowed. He touched a tentative hand to his temple and saw blood on his fingertips. But he wiped them absently on his jeans and dismissed her concern with a charming grin. "It's nothing. Just a little accident. What do I owe you, sweetheart?"  
  
She blushed. This mysterious driver looked dangerous. She liked that. He took his coffee black - no sugar, paid in cash and let her keep the change.  
  
Now for those pills.

 

Back in his car, he turned the rear view mirror to look at his wounds. There was a nasty cut on his head that that could use a stitch or two. A bruise was forming beneath his left eye and blood was trickling from his nose. What a mess. Then something in the mirror caught his eye, and he froze. There was a boy in the backseat, with his arms wrapped around his legs and head buried between his knees.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" His voice was sharp, and rightly so, he wasn't used to finding stray teenage boys in his backseat. He had instinctively reached for the gun in the glove box, but the boy looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and the driver stopped. He was covered in bruises. His clothes had been ripped to shreds, and his messy black hair was matted with blood and dirt. There was clearly a fresh wound on his chest, where blood soaked through what was left of his red hoodie.  
  
Despite his injuries, the boy smiled. "Hi, I'm Luffy."  
  
The driver's voice softened, "Christ. What happened to you?"  
  
He looked down at his wounded body like he had forgotten all about it. "Oh this. It's nothin', I'm fine!"  
  
The driver reached over the seat and pushed the tattered hoodie aside. The wound was deep, and needed cleaning. "No, you're not fine. This will need stitches. And your ribs may be broken."  
  
The boy, Luffy, just giggled. "What are you, a doctor or something?"  
  
"Something like that." He looked curiously at the young boy, "What are you doing in my car, anyway?"  
  
Luffy shrugged and bit down on his tattered sleeve. "Hiding."  
  
"Hiding from who?"  
  
But the boy just smiled, and while puzzling, it was rather contagious. "You don't have anywhere to go, do you?"  
  
"Nope!" His response was almost too cheerful.  
  
"Well," there was a deep sigh from the tall man in the front seat, "I can't very well leave you bleeding on the side of the road. I guess you can come with me. Get you fixed up."  
  
If he was smiling before, Luffy positively beamed now. "Thanks, doctor!"

What a strange boy, he thought to himself.

 

The good doctor lived in a sleek, contemporary home miles outside of town. Nestled on the edge of the water with a private dock and a yacht that was lit up like a Christmas tree. Not a neighbour around for miles. Just the way he liked it. Luffy was perched on an operating table in the dining room, (at least, that's what it was designed to be. But who needs a dining room anyway?) his torn hoodie discarded, swinging his feet as he stared at an array of menacing tools.

 

"What kind of doctor are you, exactly?" There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, but if he was nervous, he didn't show it.

The doctor pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "Let's just say that my patients require a different kind of service. The kind they can't talk about. _"_

Luffy's eyes widened. "Woah. So you're like, a _secret doctor."_

The doctor smirked. "You could say that. Now lie back. I'm going to give you a local anesthetic."

 

The needles hurt, but Luffy bit his fist to bare the pain, and counted the sutures as the doctor stitched his wound. "So are you gonna tell me your name, secret doctor?"

Grey eyes glanced briefly up at him. Another stitch was pulled tight and Luffy hissed. What number was that? He'd lost count. "Trafalgar Law."

The boy's forehead wrinkled as he concentrated. "Trafo....Tar.....Torao.... "

"Just Law is fine. Are you gonna tell me how you got these wounds?"

Luffy ignored him. "That's a strange name."

Another sharp stitch. Law smirked. "You're a strange boy." Luffy looked altogether pleased with himself.

 

Law was used to getting vague answers from his patients. Often even a flat out lie. Most cases were self explanatory: bullet holes, knife wounds, even the occasional screw driver to the head. The doctor had seen just about every injury that one human could inflict upon another. But he had to admit, this one had his curiosity. This strange little runaway who had mysteriously appeared in his backseat.

He finished suturing the gash on his stomach ( _"Hey, Torao, how many stitches was that? I lost count." "Sixteen." "Awesome!"_ ) and dressed the other, superficial wounds on the boy's thin frame. When he was finished, the doctor peeled off his gloves and examined his work. "That should do it," he concluded, "but you'll want to be careful. Your ribs aren't broken, but they're certainly bruised."

He touched the sensitive area gently with his fingertips and Luffy hissed. The boy's skin was searing hot, and Law's fingers were cool and soothing.

"Jesus kid, you're burning up." He pressed his palm against his fiery skin; his temperature was sky high, but he didn't sweat. When he ran his finger's down the boy's delicate rib cage, something changed. Like a shift in the currents. The air was still, and the boy's eyes slipped shut as he melted into the touch. Law froze. The fire under Luffy's skin seemed contagious; it seared his palm and heat washed over him like a wave that swallowed him whole.

"Don't stop." His voice had changed. The smiley little boy he met in his backseat was.... _different_ somehow. It was nothing the good doctor could explain medically, but one didn't need a medical degree to determine that there was _something_ consuming him.

The heat was getting to be too much for Law. He cleared his throat needlessly, "You should probably get some rest." But when he tried to step back, Luffy latched onto his hoodie.

 

"Torao.. Kiss me."

Something cold and prickly ran down the doctor's spine. He swallowed hard. "Kid, you don't know what you're asking me for-"

_"Don't,"_ Luffy pulled him closer, his knees on either side of Law's hips and brush-burned knuckles twisted in his hoodie. "No one's ever kissed me before. You're the first person I've _wanted_ to kiss me."

The heat was overwhelming. Like being too close to a flame. Luffy looked up at him with his pupils blown wide, and Law's eyes were drawn to the slick of his lower lip. "You've got a fever."

Luffy licked his lip; slowly, deliberately, and Law followed the motion. "Shit."

 

Law's tattooed hands framed the kid's face as he pulled him into it, all at once, like diving headfirst into cold water. But the ripples washed over him, and Luffy couldn't swim. Law kissed him slow and sweet; soft breaths and slick lips. Luffy was dizzy - his fingertips tingled and his head was swimming like he was running out of air - he wanted more. When Law licked into his mouth, the boy keened.

The good doctor was losing focus. He swallowed the boy's warmth, and it swelled in his stomach. The noises the kid made, the way he tugged him into it.. this one certainly wasn't like his other patients. Luffy was getting bolder, but he didn't realise just _how_ bold until he felt small hands tugging at his belt. Law grabbed his wrist and the boy froze. "Woah. Slow down, boy."

Luffy whined. "I don't _want_ to slow down." His cheeks were barely tinged with colour, his eyes looked sleepy. He stretched for another kiss from the tall doctor, and Law gave in. His nerves were on fire, while Luffy felt a numbing sensation wash over him like a cool bath. Is this what kissing felt like? Or was it just kissing Law? If so, Luffy never wanted to kiss another.

When the doctor's grip went loose around his wrist, the boy seized the opportunity. He slid a thumb over the metal buckle, followed the zipper with tingling fingers, and in one bold move, palmed his length through a layer of denim. The reaction was instantaneous. Tattooed fingers ripped through Luffy's hair and the doctor moaned. The sound was almost musical, and in seventeen years, Luffy had never heard something so beautiful. He wanted to hear it again. And again. He pressed his palm against Law's zipper and the doctor's hips snapped forward. But that musical sound turned to a rough growl, and Luffy found himself pressed into the operating bed with his wrists pinned above his head.

 

The doctor had lost himself. This kid had found a weakness in him. "It's rude to interrupt." His voice was deep and rough, like he'd just swallowed hot coals. Law's weight was bearing down on him, crushing his bruised ribs, but the boy felt no pain.

Luffy just stared up at him, unfazed. "You're hard." Even now, he was innocent.

Law laughed, but it sounded more like a growl. "Yeah."

"Let me help." Oh, the innocence of youth. His hips arched off the table, but Law slammed them back down with a large, tattooed hand. "No," he growled against the soft skin of the boy's neck, "you can't help me."

Luffy wiggled his hands free from the doctor's loosened grip and slid his hands through his hair. "Let me stay with you tonight."

Law groaned against the boy's skin. "Luffy.."

"Just for tonight. Torao, please?"

 

Law sighed as he looked down at the wide-eyed runaway. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind. _'Don't do it. You've got a job to do. This kid is trouble.'_ But he was weak, and this _kid_ _-_ who had come from nowhere - had made him that way. "Fine." Luffy grinned, but the doctor pointed a long finger in his direction. "But just for tonight, I mean it."

His answer seemed to please the boy. But when he tried to sit up, a sharp pain stabbed at Luffy's chest like a hot iron. He choked on a gulp of air and clutched at his chest; it felt as though something had been ripped out of him. Law caught the boy as he fell forward, let him lean against him until the pain subsided. "It hurts again," his voice was meek, and his fever had returned.

"Yes, I'm sure it does," Law offered, "But it won't last."

 

The good doctor gave him a heavy dose of painkillers and a cola. Not long after, he was lying with his head on Law's chest, slowly drifting off to the steady rise and fall of his lungs. Law's eyes were heavy, and though his head still throbbed and a nicotine itch made his skin crawl, sleep was calling him. He never did get to drink that coffee. The nagging voice at the back of his mind was still there, but he tuned it out. _'Do your job. Do your job.'_ He listened instead to the sweeter sound of the boy's light snores, and found quiet, at last, in his slumber.

 

_"Torao...."_

He was dreaming. He knew that he was, for he felt weightless and without worry.

_"Torao, I have to go. I'm sorry that I ran out in front of your car. I didn't see you. Please don't be mad at me....I'll miss you, Torao."_

 

Law sat up in bed, and knew at once that something was wrong. The door was open. He cursed under his breath as he got to his feet, the voice was already screaming at him: _'you should have just done your job!'_ Out on the balcony, a cool breeze greeted him from the sea. It was still dark, though the full moon shone almost like second sun and kissed the waves. There, on the edge of the water, stood a lone wolf; with shaggy black hair and wide, glowing eyes. _Luffy._ When it saw him, the animal raised its head, and let out a long, lonely howl. With one last, longing glance in Law's direction, the wolf ran off into the woods, a noticeable limp barely slowing him down.

Back on the balcony, the doctor let out a heavy sigh as he watched Luffy disappear into the trees. He'd lost his patient; the little werewolf boy he'd been searching for for months had literally offered himself to Law, and Law had let him leave. His boss was going to be furious. But it would be worth facing the wrath of God, if only for this one night with a boy who reminded him that innocence still thrived - even in a world of liars and killers. Luffy might not have known what he'd gotten himself into when he climbed into the doctor's car, but he'd certainly figured it out.

"Run, little wolf," he whispered solemnly, "We'll meet again soon, I'm afraid."

Though the wolf did run, as fast as his wounded legs could carry him, it would never be enough. As sure as night is dark; when you interrupt a kiss from Death himself, even a wolf cannot run fast enough, for He is cursed, and will chase you to the ends of the earth.

 

 

 

_'And I looked, and behold, a **pale horse:  
**_

_and his name that sat on him was **Death,** and **hell** followed with him.'_

**Revelation 6:8**

 


End file.
